Coveting Madness
by rlassie
Summary: Sequel to Stark Raving Mad but can be read alone. "She was leaving him." In a world turned to chaos, the female third of the Golden Trio makes a decision that ends up tearing her and her lover apart. How will her possessive Slytherin cope in her absence? On which side do his loyalties really lie? Dramione two-shot, rated M for language, violence and adult content. PREQUEL POSTED!
1. The build-up

**Coveting Madness**

Disclaimer: The things that I've changed are mine. Everything else belongs to J K.

**A/N – Because the response to Stark Raving Mad shocked me so, I wanted to carry it on. It was originally going to be a one-shot, but then Draco just wouldn't stop. There isn't any citrus in this chapter, but the second and final chapter will be up soon and will contain that lovely fruit. :)**

**Chapter One – The build-up**

* * *

Inside his head, Draco Malfoy was screaming.

He hurled his denial at the walls of his mind, raging, yelling, shouting, doing everything he could to drown out the words the Gryffindor standing in front of him was pleading. She stood there with her hands clasped in front of her, expression twisted and tears swimming in her beautiful brown eyes.

Her eyes had been the first thing he'd noticed about her all those years ago. Sparking with life and fire, heated with contempt and what at the time he'd thought was smug superiority. He'd hated that. How dare_ she_, a plain-jane, know-it-all, mudblood bookworm, feel superior to _him_? He was a Malfoy! A pureblood! She should be licking his boots, not lording her intellect and keen magical skills over him!

His views had changed as he'd gotten older, and he realized sometime during his third year that what he was spouting were his father's words, not his. The look in her eyes had changed as well, turning from smug superiority to confident cleverness, pride and a devil-may-care attitude towards what other people thought of her. He wasn't sure when he realized that it had been like that all along. Maybe sometime around the time she slapped him. All he knew was that he admired it, and her, though he'd hid it behind taunting insults and sneers.

That admiration had abruptly turned to savage lust at the beginning of their sixth year. He had no idea why, she didn't look any different, still tall and willowy with next to no curves to speak of. But all of a sudden, he'd wanted her. Badly.

So, he'd set out to have her.

A school year later, he was standing there, roaring at her in his head. He'd had her, yes, but at some point it had become more than that. Much more. She'd become his. Or she had been, up until now.

She was leaving him.

She was choosing Golden Boy, St. Potter, over him.

Though Draco screamed his anger, his horror over what she planned to do, his flat out denial that she was actually going to _do_ it, nothing of this showed on his face. His expression was blank and calm, his eyes cold and as empty as he could make them. He would not show her how much her choice was hurting him.

Killing him.

"Draco, please, _say_ something!"

"What would you like me to say?" he asked coolly, expression bored. Hermione's choked laughter sounded more like a sob as she reached up to rub the bridge of her nose.

"Oh, I don't know, maybe something along the line of, 'I support you and I'll be waiting for you when you get back'?"

"You want me to lie?"

Because he didn't support her. Not in this. Not at all. This 'mission' of hers and Potter's and Weasley's was foolhardy and dangerous and could get her killed in a heatbeat. He didn't know the details, he didn't want to know. But he did know that it was so fucking _Gryffindor_, it made him sick to think of it.

She didn't have to do this. She didn't have to leave him and go with Potter to save the bloody world. She wanted to. And that was what was tearing him apart.

He was determined she'd never know of the cottage he'd purchased for the two of them, where he would have taken her and kept her safe. She'd made her choice.

That choice wasn't him.

"No! I want you understand! Understand why I _have_ to do this! Why I don't have a choice! Harry needs me!"

_So do I_, he thought but didn't say. Would never say. He was already too close to begging as it was.

"The world doesn't revolve around you, Granger. You can't always get what you want."

Hermione growled and tugged at her hair in frustration. "Bloody hell, Malfoy, you're my boyfriend! You're supposed to be on my side no matter what!"

Draco cocked his head slightly, the raging in his mind escalating. "Pity that definition doesn't fit me anymore."

Hermione gasped, face draining to white. With bones that felt like glass, Draco turned and began to walked away.

"But… I thought you loved me."

The whispered words make Draco stop dead, his fisting hands the only hint of the emotions he was feeling, the only sign of pain he'd shown since the Gryffindor had told him she was leaving.

Leaving him.

"And _I_ thought you loved _me._"

With that, he casually strolled away from her, away from the crowd left over from the funeral.

As soon as he was sure he was out of sight, he began to run.

~0~

Draco Apparated to Malfoy Manor, stopping only long enough to check on his mother. He could not stay there. There was a high chance that sometime in the future, his boyhood home would become the base of the Dark Lord, and he wasn't going to be there when it happened.

Though he'd never openly come out and stated his opinion about He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, he wasn't the loyal follower that many of the school thought he was. Truth be told, Draco was on the fence.

He had been even before his thing – _non-thing now, _he thought, mouth twisting as his heart thudded dully in his chest – with Granger had started. His family had worshipped the Dark Arts for centuries, and Draco took pride in the long, aristocratic history of the blood in his veins. When you were drowned in a set of beliefs since the day you were born, you were predisposed towards believing them. It was only as he grew older that he started thinking for himself. Granger had helped there.

How could be possibly consider muggles and muggle-borns inferior and second class when he had an amazing, heart-stopping muggle-born witch in his bed?

How could she be a mudblood when she was the most beautiful, alive thing in his life?

She was just so… _bright. _Her smile, her laugh, the look in her eyes when she lectured him about a subject she loved, the way she was constantly curled up with that bloody boring book, the feel of her lips pressed urgently to his, the sounds she made when she came…

Draco shook his head and scowled. This… this _pain_ he was feeling was completely unacceptable. She didn't want him. Not anymore.

But, fuck, did it hurt to be thrown away. To have another chosen over him.

To have Potter chosen over him.

He'd always known it was going to happen at some point or another. How could it not? Granger and Potter were two peas in a pod, infuriatingly close. He'd never been worried about Weasley, the redheaded fool was too much of an simpleton for his Hermione, but Potter… he was another story.

Another story altogether.

He knew she'd been keeping secrets from him, but that was okay, because he was doing the same with her. She never knew that the only reason he wasn't a Death Eater, the only reason why he didn't have that Mark on his arm, was because his mother had pleaded with the Dark Lord and had been severely punished for doing so. She never knew that the task Snape had been giving, the one he'd carried out, was supposed to have been Draco's – would have been if he'd had the Mark. She also didn't know that the only reason he'd fixed that Vanishing Cabinet was because it was the only way to stop both his father and the Dark Lord from torturing his mother daily.

Draco loved his mother quite desperately and was constantly pleading with her to leave with him. Her answer was always no.

Yes, there were many things he'd kept from Granger. Things he'd been on the verge of trusting her enough to reveal. No matter now, though.

She wasn't his anymore.

He was on his way out of the Manor when that thought came to him. He once again stopped dead, staring blindly at a priceless Ming vase sitting on a delicate looking desk in the hallway.

He was picking up that vase and throwing it before the action even registered.

The smash brought him round, making him realize that his chest was heaving with something that was almost like a sob, his heart bulleting and limbs trembling. After a few deep breaths and a curl of his lip at the betrayal of emotion, he turned and left the Manor.

It said a lot about what the occupants of the house were used to, that no one, human or house-elf, came to investigate the loud crash.

~0~

Draco spent the summer alternating between the Manor and Spinner's End. Snape had spoken up for his mother when she'd gone to the Dark Lord and begged for her son to not be initiated yet. She'd pleaded that he be allowed to finish school first. Nobody knew why the Dark Lord had eventually agreed.

Draco had his suspicions about the Potions Master, though he was wise enough to never voiced them. He'd been there when Snape had killed Dumbledore, had even unwillingly disarmed the old man for him, but Snape had made him promise never to reveal that fact to anyone. The only reason he'd been there in the first place was because Bellatrix hadn't given him a choice. Though he still yet didn't know which side of the line he fell – he could see benefits on both sides – he was a bone-deep Slytherin. If it was a choice between death and compliance, his life always came first.

There were only two people he'd ever consider changing that decision for. One of them was now out of his reach.

Snape knew about Draco's relationship – _past_ relationship, why was that so hard to comprehend? – with a certain Gryffindor. When things had begun changing, Draco had had to have _someone_ to talk to. Once he'd found out, the Professor had made it clear that he didn't approve. He hadn't told anyone, though. He'd listened, given his opinion and then walked away. When Draco had later asked him why he hadn't forbidden him from seeing the witch, Snape's eyes had fogged with memories. He'd said that it not only wasn't his place, he also knew what it was like to harbour affection for the forbidden. He'd then warned the boy to be careful and nothing more was said on the subject, though Draco caught him watching them a time or two, the intensity of his stare surprising the Slytherin.

Draco didn't hear about the attack on the Weasley wedding until it was already in progress. He was sitting in Snape's house and staring into the gloom, mind blank, when the Potions Master came to tell him that the three had escaped. He looked up at his Professor and gave a single nod before getting up and leaving the house without a word.

Later, Snape would find a destroyed garden shed and his mouth would pull in displeasure and surprisingly, a little understanding, before he would begin cleaning up the mess.

The trio weren't seen at all during the rest of the summer months, though Snape kept Draco up-to-date on reports of Death Eaters surveying Sirius Black's inherited house – or at least the place the house should have been. All too soon, it was time to go back to Hogwarts.

The Slytherin got on the Hogwarts Express with a conflicted heart and a deep desire to keep to himself. The train almost seemed empty without the three well-known Gryffindor's in residence, and once he stepped through Hogwarts doors, he realized that the same could be said about the school as well. With a hair-trigger temper and bitter antisocialness hanging over him like a constant shadow, Draco attended his classes and only spoke to his fellow students when he didn't have a choice. He tried his best to avoid both his Dark-supporting Housemates and the Light supporters as well. He just wanted to get through the year without any friction.

Snape was now the Headmaster, and Draco received an owl on the third day back, written in the new Headmaster's handwriting.

_They infiltrated the Ministry. All three got out alive._

That was all it said. It didn't mention anything about injuries. The parchment crumpled in Draco's hand and after Vanishing it, he abruptly got up and left the Hall.

At the end of the day, the Professors would grumble amongst themselves, cursing the Death Eaters who now inhabited the school. It was well known that they loved destruction, but did they have to take it out on the Trophy Room? The place had been trashed!

~0~

The first time Draco helped someone, it shocked him as much as the person he'd helped.

Though Snape was Headmaster, the two to watch out for were the Carrow's. They were brother and sister and they _lived_ to torture students. One gloomy day, Draco came across the female, Alecto, doing exactly that.

"You stupid, insipid chit! I should kill you right here and now!"

"Please, please, I'm sorry! I won't-"

"_Crucio!"_

The girl's screams echoed off the walls and Draco found himself speeding up, almost running. He rounded a corner and skidded to a halt, to see Alecto holding her wand on a blond Hufflepuff – Hannah Abbott. The girl withered on the floor, mouth open wide as she screamed, streaks of pain and exhaustion lining eyes that were already coloured black from previous 'discipline.'

Alecto turned as he approached, releasing the Unforgivable. She smirked cruelly, her victim collapsing onto the cold concrete, whimpering to herself.

"Draco. Come to have a go? It's fun, look! _Crucio!"_

The Slytherin watched, teeth clenched as Hannah screamed again. The sound was hoarser this time, but still just as horrific. He swallowed hard, head whipping around when Alecto began to giggle madly.

"Yes, yes, scream, my little one, scream! Show me those tonsils! That's it, louder, loud-"

"Stop."

Draco didn't even realize he'd spoken until his hand was on her arm, jerking her wand down. Hannah gasped on the floor, tears rolling down her cheeks, eyes clouded. Alecto gaped at him.

"What are you _doing?_"

"The Headmaster will not like it if you kill a student. All that paperwork would be extremely tiresome."

"But I won't _kill_ her! Just drive her mad a little!"

"That will be just as bad. You've punished her, you must stop now."

Those bordering on insane eyes narrowed. "You sound like you _want _me to stop."

Draco let a smirk spread across his face. "Didn't you mention something about having a go?"

The Death Eater laughed and clapped her hands in glee. "Yes! Go now, go!"

"No," he said, shaking his head. "Not now. Those with patience get the biggest reward in the end. It'll be more satisfying if she's always looking over her shoulder. More… _fun._"

"Oooh, you _are _you're father's son! I told Amycus you were! I was right!"

"Yes, whatever," Draco said, waving his hand in dismissal. "You should go. I'll deal with her."

"But-"

"You've had your fun, now go! It's _my_ turn to scare her witless, and I _don't_ need an audience!"

Alecto reluctantly left, grumbling about Death Eater children with big heads. She kicked the Hufflepuff as she was passed, who groaned and curled in on herself. Once they were alone, Draco stared down at her for a moment and then his mouth twisted in sour acceptance. He drew his wand and, ignoring the violent flinch from the girl on the floor, pictured a laughing bookworm in his head.

_"Expecto Patronum." _

His Patronus burst from the tip of his wand and began to swim lazily around him.

"Get Longbottom and tell him to bring healing potions. A lot of them."

He gave the location and the silvery creature was gone in an instant. Draco crouched down slowly, watching the girl he'd just stupidly rescued. Hannah whimpered and tried to edge away from him.

"Please… please don't hurt me."

He sighed. "I'm not going to hurt you. Just wait and don't move. Longbottom will be here soon."

The too-skinny witch blinked at him. "You said… you said you would… so it's fun…"

"I lied."

Those pained brown eyes surveyed him for a moment and then relief and gratitude warmed them, reminding him of another pair of brown eyes. He grimaced and pushed that thought away. The memories had their uses, but that was done now. The time to reminisce was over.

"Why… why are you helping me?"

Draco settled against the wall and looked over at her again. She was staring at him, suspicion and curiosity gradually overtaking the gratitude. He scowled at her, closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I have no bloody idea."

They didn't speak again until the sound of running feet reached them and Neville Longbottom threw himself down beside the Hufflepuff. Draco got to his feet and turned to leave them to it.

"Malfoy."

He glanced back over his shoulder and arched a brow. Longbottom was watching him closely.

"An otter?"

The Slytherin scowled again, turned and walked away without another word.

~0~

It became a pattern. He would hear screaming and when he could, which wasn't often, he would go and interrupt. He hated the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself. He lived in the fucking snake pit, for Merlin's sake, if one whiff of what he was doing reached the wrong ears, he was a dead man. Yet, he still did it.

He was mad.

Stark, raving…

The Christmas break came and went, Draco taking the opportunity to escape the hellhole his school had become. Not that the Manor is any safer, but at least there he can get more up-to-date reports on the bloody trio. Every non-answer he got, every angry, terrified snarl lightened that horrible, heavy load on his heart.

Because if they can't find them, they can't hurt her.

Or kill her.

He spent time with his mother, avoided his father as much as possible and then made his way back to Hogwarts.

Months past and Draco continued to try and keep a low profile. By now, the rebel students in the school knew what he was doing – or trying and failing _not_ to do. He found himself being followed and began to expect an ambush. He didn't know if it would be a friendly one or not, just as he had no clue whether he would _welcome_ a friendly one or not. The Easter holidays arrived before he could sort it out in his head, and he left for the Manor.

The days were slow and Draco spent a lot of them outside on the grounds. Bellatrix and Greyback had taken up residence in his home, if he could call it that, and he deeply despised both. His aunt was bat-shit crazy and the werewolf…

At least Lupin had _tried_ to be as human as possible. That… _thing_ wouldn't know humanity if it was a bludger that hit him in the head!

He was just coming back in one evening when he heard the screaming. Two sets. One he was unfortunately used to and the other…

The other stopped his heart in his chest.

"I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? _Where?"_

"We found it – we found it – PLEASE!"

"_CRUCIO!_"

She screamed, and for the longest time, Draco was unable to move. Horror and disbelief had frozen him in place, a buzzing, roaring wind in his ears blocking everything else out. She screamed again and his heart screamed with her, the pain in her voice atrocious.

_No. No, no, no, no, no, no!_

"Tell me, girly, tell me! _Crucio!"_

"Please… please…"

The screams gradually sunk to choked, moaning whimpers, and it was this that got Draco moving. She sounded broken. His aunt had broken her, his Gryffindor. That was… unacceptable.

He shot down the hall, drawing his wand as he entered the room. His eyes met Hermione's and held for two second before all hell broke loose. Potter, Weasley and a bloody house-elf burst through the door leading down to the cellar, and the next few minutes were a mess of confusion and pain. His aunt grabbed Hermione and held a knife to her throat. Potter, thinking Draco was attacking instead of helping, disarmed him before he could react and then began attacking the others in the room. Weasley tried to inch his way to Hermione, Draco quickly doing the same. He could feel brown eyes fixed on him, but couldn't afford the distraction of meeting her gaze. He could stare at her all he liked once she was free of the insane sycophant holding her captive.

Suddenly, a creaking noise broke through the din and Draco looked up to see that house-elf fiddling with the chandelier. It creaked again and then came crashing down. Bellatrix shrieked and threw herself to the side. Draco did exactly the opposite and threw himself towards Hermione.

He slammed into her and covered her body with his as the glass smashed everywhere, including right on top of him. Her steady gaze was his anchor when it landed, the heavy weight and razor-sharp edges making him jerk, grunt and hiss in pain. Hermione blinked at him slowly, her skin all but translucent and her beautiful eyes dull. Draco scowled and ignoring the screaming roar of his wounds, lifted his hand to brush his fingers over her cheek. Her eyes brightened slightly and she turned her face into his hand.

"I am extremely irritated with you right now," he muttered in a strained voice, still scowling as he caressed her soft, fragile skin. "What the fuck were you thinking, getting yourself caught?"

"Malfoy," she murmured faintly, eyes fluttering closed. "I lov-"

The glass on top of him moved. Draco was suddenly hurled backwards and thrown across the room, crashing into the wall and landing in a heap. He groaned as he turned over, the glass in his back and legs now driven in further. The world slowly fuzzed at the edges, fading in and out and spinning and twirling sickly. He coughed a few times and did his best to ignore this, wheezing out a couple of breaths and trying to focus. After what seemed like millennia, his efforts paid off as, over the horrendous pain, he could just make out her voice.

"Draco! No, stop, he's hurt!"

"Hermione, we have to _go!"_

There was a loud _crack._ Draco groaned again and with the last of his strength, reached for a stray wand lying near him and he got himself out of there as well, Apparating back to the edge of Hogwarts grounds. He would no longer be welcome at the Manor, just as he would no longer be welcome in Slytherin House.

He'd given himself away when he'd saved her life and now he had nowhere else to go.

A shadow crossed over him. Draco blinked dazedly up at the Headmaster.

"Stupid boy."

Snape reached down and yanked a large piece of glass from his thigh. Draco yelled hoarsely and the world went black.

When he woke up again, he found himself looking into Longbottom's eyes.

"They're alive," he gasped, making the boy above him jerk in surprise. "They're alive and I want in."

~0~

It was hard at first. His injuries took a long time to heal, as Madam Pomfrey couldn't make too many trips to see him, and he definitely couldn't go to the Hospital Wing. Apart from one, none of the school overseers knew he was there, and once he was able to get to his feet again, he realized he was stuck. He couldn't go anywhere in the school. He was stuck in the Room of Requirement.

Holed up with a bunch of suspicious, mistrusting rebel students.

He tried to keep a low profile, but that proved to be impossible as most of the students wouldn't let him. Many of them thought he'd only chosen their side because the other side had chucked him out. Only Longbottom and the Weasley bint knew the truth. He lost count of how many sneak attacks he had to endure – even some that weren't so sneaky. He couldn't defend himself either, as he'd grudgingly handed over the wand he'd taken from the floor of the dining room when Longbottom had demanded it.

That wasn't to say he didn't use his fists when the attacks weren't magical. He was well aware that these students were scared and angry, and that he was a handy release for that anger, being a Malfoy and all, but he wasn't going to stand there and let them pummel him.

He was in the middle of one of those releases when the tides turned on him. He was doing his best to defend himself against two angry wizards – and not doing a very good job of it, but what do you expect? He was a pureblood, for fuck's sake! – when his attackers were blasted back.

"Right, I've had enough of this! Leave him the bloody hell alone!"

Draco peered through swollen eyes at his rescuer and his mouth dropped open. The Weasley chit was standing next to him with her wand out, eyes sparking with anger.

"But, Ginny! He's a fucking wanker! A pureblood, poncey snake! He'll turn us in the first chance he gets!"

"Seamus Finnigan, you absolute git! He's known about us for ages and he didn't turn us in then, did he? And it would be barmy for him to do it now! He'd be as much on the chopping block as we'd be!"

She turned to the room, her long red hair cracking with her annoyance. "Everybody, listen up! Malfoy is out of bounds from now on! If I see anyone even _think_ about coming down on him, they'll have me to answer too!"

She turned back to the boys on the floor. "That goes for you too, Seamus! And Ernie! I expected better of you! You're a bloody prefect!"

"What the hell does that matter?" the Hufflepuff growled, getting to his feet and scowling, wiping blood from his mouth. "He's a fucking Death Eater and he deserves everything he gets!"

Ginny strode forward and yanked at Draco's arm, shoving his sleeve back. "Do you _see_ the Dark Mark? No? Then how can he be a Death Eater? Get your prejudice heads out of your arses, both of you! That's what we're supposed to be fighting against!"

The two boys grumbled and slunk away, throwing vicious looks over their shoulders at Draco. The Slytherin sighed and slid down until he was sitting on the floor, letting his head drop. He started slightly when a hand lifted his chin.

"You're not alone in this, you realize," Ginny murmured, lifting her wand and mumbling something under her breath. Draco sighed again as the pain in his face lessened. "One of my best friends, my brother and the man I love are out there. Asking for help won't kill you."

Draco stared at her and repeated the question someone else had asked him months ago. "Why would you help me?"

The witch pursed her lips and turned his face from side to side, nodding in satisfaction before meeting his eyes. "You saved Hermione's life, you helped us and she trusts you. That's good enough for me."

Draco snorted, unable to help the sneer that twisted his mouth. "Is naivety supposed to be a Gryffindor trait?"

"No, but seeing the good in people is."

He snorted again. "You'll have to look deep for that, Weasley."

The rebel leader cocked her head, hair falling over one shoulder. "Two years ago, I would have agreed with that statement. Now, I'm not so sure."

Then she got up and walked away, leaving Draco staring after her.

It got better after that. Not right away, of course, but slowly the Light witches and wizards began to tolerate his presence. It helped that Draco found something that helped people and that he surprisingly enjoyed doing.

It was Looney of all people who introduced it to him. The girl had somehow made it back to Hogwarts and was now stuck in the Room along with the Draco. The two of them only had a couple of second-years for company when Lavender came running in one day, carrying a tiny blood-soaked figure in her arms.

"Neville! Ginny! Merlin, please, help!"

"They aren't here at the moment, Lavender," Luna said as she hurried over, her airy voice calm. "Put her down, now."

Lavender carefully lowered her burden and Luna knelt down. Her head swivelled and Draco started when her gaze pinned him. "Draco, I need you."

He scowled. "What?"

"I need your help. She needs immediate attention and I cannot do this on my own. I'm not strong enough."

"Brown can help you."

"Lavender is hurt as well," Luna said and for the first time Draco noticed the way the girl was holding her side, her expression pained. "She will not be able to do anything until she is healed. You must help me."

"I don't know any healing spells. Nor do I have a wand."

"I have one you can borrow and I will teach you the spells. Please, Draco. She doesn't have much time."

The Slytherin hesitated and then slowly got to his feet. Relief flickered through Luna's eyes as he made his way over to her. She quickly got up and he watched with a frown as she approached one of the walls, tapping it with her wand. A door appeared in the concrete and it opened to reveal a box-like compartment. Draco's eyes widened in surprise when he saw the bundle of wands stored within. The Ravenclaw grabbed one, came back and handed it to him, then pulled him down.

"Normally, you would try them all until one finds you, but we haven't time for that at the moment. Your spells won't be strong anyway, as you have never done them before. But they should be enough. Now the spells…"

She showed him what to do and then they both set to work, Lavender watching anxiously, trying not to sway. A weird, foreign warmth tugged at Draco's gut as gradually, the multiple cuts on the first-year's torso slowed and then finally stopped bleeding. The wounds didn't close, but they healed enough to save the girls life. Eventually, Luna sat back, pulling her wand away, and following her lead, Draco did the same.

"She should be fine now. Thank you, Draco. You just gave her another chance."

The warmth in his belly spread to the rest of his body as Draco stared down at the now sleeping girl. He'd just helped save a life.

For the first time in a long time, Draco Malfoy felt proud of himself.

After that, he tried to help as much as he could. He was shocked when they let him keep the wand, Luna saying it wouldn't have worked so well for him if it didn't suit him. People protested, but Luna overruled them, shocking Draco again.

Seems the flighty, barmy Ravenclaw wasn't so off her rocker after all.

Two months past, and then suddenly, everything changed.

~0~

He was sitting in a back corner with Luna, devising ways to get at the Carrow's, when the painting on the wall changed from scenery to portrait. He'd taken to spending a lot of time with the Ravenclaw. She still lived up to her nickname, acting loony and warped most of the time, but Draco found that if you listened hard enough, what she said made a lot of sense. It helped that he also couldn't escape her, no matter how much he wanted to at times.

Neville went to speak to the girl in the painting and then the frame swung open and he was gone. He came back ten minutes later, but this time he wasn't alone. To everyone's delight, stepping out of the passageway with him was Weasley, Golden Boy Potter and…

_Hermione. _

_Granger. Hermione._

_Sweet Merlin… Hermione._

The cheers in the room dulled to nothing, so that the only sound Draco could hear as he mechanically got to his feet, his shocked gaze locked on the figure across the room, was the frantic pounding of his heart. A fine tremble spread through his limbs and his breath hitched in his throat as he stared, drinking her in. He couldn't take his eyes off of her. She was… _beautiful._

Even thin as a rail, covered in dirt and something that looked a lot like blood, hair tangled and burnt in places, she was beautiful.

He took a step forward and then stopped, torn. Would she want to see him? Scowling, he hurriedly stepped back. Of _course_ she wouldn't! His aunt had tortured her, for fuck's sake! She must hate him!

"Don't let the past overshadow your future, Draco," Luna murmured, her hand on his arm. She squeezed it gently and then made her way through the crowd, stopping at Hermione's side. The Gryffindor hadn't looked around yet, still in deep discussion with Neville and Ginny. The Ravenclaw tapped her on the arm, accepted the hug when Hermione pulled her in, and then turned and pointed.

Right at Draco.

Granger followed her arm and Draco couldn't stop the strangled, helpless groan that came from deep in his throat when their gazes clashed. Her eyes widened and he took another step forward, the movement involuntary, before once again freezing in place.

"Draco."

He couldn't hear the word, as she'd whispered it, but he'd seen her lips form his name so many times, he couldn't not understand what she was saying. He took another involuntary step, still lost in her eyes.

Eyes that were rapidly filling with tears.

"_Draco."_

He heard it that time, and the broken moan in turn broke him. He was shoving his way through the crowd before he realized he was moving.

She met him halfway and the moment his arms locked around her, her face pressed into his neck as her body shook with sobs, the world was right again.

"Draco. Draco, Draco, Draco, I love you, Oh Merlin, I love you, you're all right, I thought you were dead, I love you so much, Harry said it could just be because the Room isn't on the Map, I love you, you were so hurt, I love-"

"Granger."

She looked up, cheeks wet.

"Shut the hell up."

He jerked her up on her toes and crushed his lips to hers.


	2. The completion

**Coveting Madness**

Disclaimer: The things that I've changed are mine. Everything else belongs to J K.

**A/N – I apologize for this taking so long. It's only the second lemon I've ever written, SRM being the first, and this one's a little more detailed then that one was. Smut is actually quite hard to write. Anyway, enjoy and please let me know what you think! :)**

**Chapter Two – The completion**

_He jerked her up on her toes and crushed his lips to hers. _

* * *

**Warning! - Contains adult content. Please do not read if you're not old enough.**

* * *

Draco threw himself into the kiss, ignoring the escalating barrage of shocked whispers and mutters as he concentrated on the feel of Hermione's lips moving under his. The witch he was holding moaned softly, the sound going straight to both his head and his groin, making him feel like he'd drunk an ocean's worth of firewhiskey. She eagerly parted her lips and swept her tongue out to meet his, nipping at his mouth teasingly. Draco groaned as his blood roared, his lips leaving hers to latch onto her throat as his hands shot down to cup her arse and press her against him.

He shifted slightly, his cock swelling and honing in on home base, and it was all he could do not to whimper. Fuck, she felt good. So much better than she should. If he wasn't careful, he was going to…

Hermione let out a choked little whine, the sound full of need, and Draco groaned again. He bit down roughly on her skin, startling a gasp from her, and with a scowl, he very reluctantly stepped back. As much as he wanted to be inside her right this second, the last thing he wanted to do was humiliate himself by coming in his pants. And he really didn't think she'd appreciate him staking his claim in front of a room full of people.

He, himself, couldn't care less about the audience.

"Wha…?" Hermione murmured, blinking slowly, eyes blurred with want. Draco clenched both his teeth and his hands and took an even larger step back.

"Later, Granger," he hissed, groaning again when she licked her lips.

"Umm… right," she muttered. She took a deep breath – and no, he did _not _focus on the way the movement pushed her chest out – and seemed to suddenly become aware of the attention they were receiving. She looked around, eyes widening. The whispers and mutters had gotten louder, anger and disbelief the general tone.

"What? Have you lot never seen kissing before or something?" the Weasley chit spoke up loudly, glaring around the room. The same Gryffindor who Draco often had to defend himself against stepped forward, mouth pulled into a mutinous snarl.

"That fucking _snake_ is-"

"Kissing his girlfriend," Potter said quietly, pushing his way through the crowd. Hermione turned to smile at him and Draco shot forward, grabbing her hand. He only just stopped himself from jerking her away from the prat.

He couldn't stop his glower, or the possessive way he stepped up behind her, his hand swallowing hers as his other arm circled her waist.

Hermione was _his_.

He'd made a mistake letting her go, one which he intended to correct as soon as humanly possible. The dick would just have to put up with that.

Granger looked over her shoulder and met his gaze, frowning slightly. Not liking the look in her eyes, he leaned down and whispered in her ear.

"I don't care what your choice was. I don't care that you chose him over me. You're mine, Granger, and I'm never letting you go again. Deal with it."

"Chose him over you? What are you talking about?" she muttered back, searching his gaze. Draco scowled and opened his mouth to reply, but was cut off by Potty speaking again.

"Malfoy saved Hermione's life. They've been together for over a year and though he's far from the person I would choose for her-" he turned to smirk at Draco, who sneered back "-she loves and trusts him. Finding him here just proves that he's on our side, and we need all the wands we can get."

"He's only here because we're the only choice he has! He'll re-join the Death Eaters as soon as You-Know-Who crooks his finger!" a girl from somewhere in the back of the crowd called out scornfully.

"I suppose he was a Death Eater when he saved your life just last week, eh, Melanie?" Ginny snapped, eyes flashing. "He's helped heal a number of the people in this room, so you all get down of your bloody high horses and act like grownups for once!"

"This war cannot be won if we continue existing within this mind-set. The pimplewiggens are heavy in this room, so we must push through them and embrace and learn from friends and enemies alike. Only then can we evolve."

Draco shook his head, mouth pulling in reluctant amusement. Luna stood in the middle of the group, eye dreamy and voice ethereal, her words still lingering in the air. But even though what she'd said didn't seem to make sense – pimplewiggens? What the fuck are pimplewiggens? – the room still seemed to be listening to her.

"Err, right," Potter said, sharing a look of confusion with his redheaded, dim-witted sidekick. "What she said. Just know that Draco's made his choice and he chose us. Right, Malfoy?"

Draco met the so-called Saviour's eyes coolly. "Choose you, Potter? Doubtful. However," he continued, his voice getting louder to combat the renewed uproar as Hermione threw him a startled, slightly panicked look. "Choose _her?_ Always."

He wrapped his arms around his witch's middle and drew her back against him, holding Harry's gaze defiantly and smirking to himself when he heard a few soft, girly sighs amongst the mumbles from the crowd.

Potter rolled his eyes and the Weasel made an obnoxious gagging sound, but Draco was no longer paying attention to them. Hermione had just folded her hand over the arm wrapped around her and settled her head back against his shoulder. Her fingers were making patterns on his sleeve, sending tingles up his arm and straight down to his groin. He leaned down and brushed her hair back with his nose, dragging his lips gently along the skin under her ear. She shuddered, letting out a soft mew, and he pushed his hips forward, grinding against her.

"Draco… not here," she moaned quietly, pushing back. He hissed and pressed her against him tighter, using his knee to push her legs apart so he could hit just the right spot.

"You weren't saying that two minutes ago," he murmured in her ear, nipping at the lobe.

"Draco, stop, we need to… _Merlin!_ Stop! Umm, p-privacy. We need… privacy."

"Fuck, yes," he growled, abruptly letting her go. He turned and grabbed her arm, dragging her along behind him as he pushed his way through the throng. He heard the Weasel call her name as they left, but ignored him as well as the rest of the buzzing, suddenly rushing crowd.

He pulled her inside the alcove the Room had provided for recovering patients. Thankfully there weren't any occupants at the moment, only a single fourth-year witch restocking the potions shelf. He hissed "Out!" at the girl, jerked the curtains shut once she'd scampered away and then drew his wand and cast locking and silencing spells on them.

"Draco, what did you mean-"

"Shut up," he murmured as he turned towards her, the word low and silky. Hermione scowled.

"That's the second time you've told me to shut up."

"And yet, you're still talking."

He took a step towards her, making her eyes widen. She took one back.

"Because we _need_ to talk! You need to tell me what you meant by me choosing Harry over you."

"No, I don't," Draco purred, taking another step.

"Yes, you do!"

"No. I don't. The only thing I need to do right now, Hermione, is be inside of you."

Her beautiful brown eyes widened further and then glazed, lids fluttering shut as she shuddered. Draco took the last step and pressed his lips just under her jaw. She sighed and then gasped as he sucked lightly, bit down and then swept his tongue out over the hurt.

"No, no, we need… a-ah! Sweet Circe, do that again!"

"What, this?" Draco muttered, once again circling her nipple with his thumb. The bud peaked through her sweater and he smirked against her skin when she whimpered.

"Yes! I mean… no! Ah…"

"Yes or no, Granger?" he teased softly, making his way back to her mouth. He breathed against her lips as his other hand swept down to press the heel against her centre. She gasped and bucked against the pressure, her own hand shooting down to grasp his wrist and press him harder.

"O-oh, shit, sweet bloody _fuck!"_

"Merlin, I love it when you curse," Draco groaned, abruptly reaching the limit of his patience. He stepped back and reached for the bottom of her sweater, tugging it up frantically.

"Off, off, off, off, off!"

"Draco, we have to-"

"Yes, yes, but later! Now, I need you. So much. I need… I need to come home, Hermione." He looked up into her heavy-lidded eyes, needing desperately to get his point across. "Let me come home."

The lust cleared from her gaze from a moment, the expression in them softening to something warm and tender. She reached up and laid her hand against his cheek, brushing her thumb back and forth. Leaning in, she gently pressed her lips to his.

Just like that, the tempo changed. Gone was the need to talk and tease. They kissed each other like they were drowning, drinking from each other's lips, drawing each other in. Draco groaned softly as her tongue moved over his, the scent of her making his head swim. They devoured each other, wrapped so close they were all but one, and soon it just wasn't enough.

Draco ran his hands down her sides and gripped her thighs, hitching her up so that her legs were wrapped around his waist. He toed his shoes off and then turned and stumbled blindly over to a cot, shuddering as Hermione latched her lips onto his neck. She sucked and the pull shot straight down to his groin, making him curse roughly and then gasp as his legs jellied and gave way under him. They tumbled down onto the thin blanket, hitting the hard mattress with a heavy "oomph!" Draco groaned again as his elbow connected with the solid metal railing.

"Fuck, woman, are you trying to kill us?"

"Shut the hell up, Malfoy, and kiss me."

He smirked. "If you insist."

Once again their mouths met. Draco pressed himself into her as he ate at her lips, blood roaring through his veins. She moaned and lifted her hips, pressing back. Draco gasped, ground down and then tore his mouth from hers and sat up, tugging her up as well. She blinked at him, eyes dazed and cheeks flushed.

"What…?"

"Clothes, clothes off," he panted, reaching for her shoes and then pulling at her sweater. He heard her breath hitch and then she was lifting her arms above her head. Draco frantically jerked the material up and off, throwing it onto the floor. He did the same with her t-shirt, reached with shaking hands for the hook of her bra, and suddenly froze.

Her stomach and ribs were covered in large, purplish bruises. They stuck out in stark contrast to the paleness of her skin, skin that was far too pallid a colour to be healthy. To make matters worse, he could count the ribs under the bruises and there were wounds that looked a lot like scorch marks dotted across her flesh. Draco stared mutely at the signs of war marring her skin, horror choking him.

Why hadn't he been there to stop it?

"I'm sorry," he whispered, too low for her to hear. "I'm so sorry."

"Draco? What's wrong?"

He reached out and brushed the tips of his fingers against a mark running across her navel. She shivered under his touch and he looked up, meeting the mixture of curiosity and confusion in her eyes.

"It doesn't hurt."

"Doesn't mean it didn't," he muttered, looking back down. He scowled at the mark and then swooped down and pressed his lips to it in an open-mouth kiss.

Hermione jumped slightly and giggled, the end of the sound trailing off into a sigh as Draco pressed his lips firmer and brushed over the mark with his tongue. He then moved on to the next one and the next one, moving up her torso until his mouth reached her breast. He blew a breath over the cloth-covered nipple and Hermione jumped again, her hands going to his head to tangle in his hair. She gasped and shifted anxiously, hands tightening when he tongue circled the hard bud through the cotton.

"Draco…" she moaned, trying to pull him closer. One of her hands fell from his hair and she clutched at his shoulders before dragging her nails down his chest, stopping just short of the tent in his trousers. Draco growled, blood burning, and shoved her back onto the cot, reaching around her to unclasp her bra and then tugging the cup down with his teeth. She whimpered when his lips met skin and quickly ridding her of the rest of the offending garment, he threw it onto the floor and eagerly drew a nipple into his mouth.

"Oh, Merlin, _Draco!"_

The hand on his lower stomach convulsed, fingertips just brushing his erection. Draco jerked and moaned, the sound vibrating over the witch's nipple, making her cry out again. He suckled lightly and then bit down.

"A-aah!"

_Mine,_ Draco growled in his head, satisfaction breaking through the fog of lust and coating his thoughts as he tortured the witch with his tongue. Moving over to the other neglected breast, he performed the same torture on its peak until she was withering beneath him, mindlessly moaning his name.

_Mine._

His erection throbbed painfully as he released her breast and moved down her torso, pressing kisses to her scars and marks as he went. He reached the top of her jeans and made quick work of undoing them and tugging them off. He blew another breath over the sodden material of her knickers and she nearly shot up off the mattress, gasping loudly. The reaction made him chuckle and Hermione turned her head to glare down at him, desire turning her eyes deep, dark and endless.

"Fuck you, Malfoy," she growled breathlessly.

"Oh, no, Granger, that's exactly what I intend to do to you."

With that, he yanked her knickers off, chucking them onto the floor with the rest of her clothes, spread her legs and buried his face between her thighs.

Hermione screeched the instant his lips touched her. Her hands speared into his hair again and she spread her legs as wide as she could, bending her knees up. Throwing her head back, she groaned loud and long as Draco lapped hungrily at her soaked flesh, concentrating on the little bundle of nerves that brought them both so much joy. He drew it into his mouth and sucked hard, making the witch cry out a relentless keening note of pleasure. Her back arched and her fingers dug into his scalp, the little pin pricks of pain from her nails making him growl and suck harder. Fuck, she was… he needed to…

"D-Draco! On, fuck, Draco! Oh, oh, oh, oh… Merlin, I need, I need… _Malfoy!_"

Continuing to draw on her clit, he dipped a finger inside of her, groaning as her walls clutched at the digit. She was so fucking tight! Just the thought of that blazing hot honey closing around his cock almost made him finish right there and then. He pushed in a second finger and angled them up; searching for the allusive stop that never failed to send her careening over the edge. He could feel her tightening around him, she only needed a little bit more…

_There!_

He drew hard on the engorged bundle, fingers pressing inside her at the same time, and Hermione screamed, head flying back as her body bowed up off the mattress. Her walls spasmed around his fingers and Draco swore viciously, the vibrations making her moan as he licked at her, slowly bringing her down. She whimpered and then collapsed, lying limp and sighing as he hurriedly pulled away. Leaning forward, he pressed a kiss to her slack mouth and then sat back, frantically tugging at his own clothes.

"You're still dressed," Hermione murmured faintly, watching him through heavy, contented eyes, the colour almost black behind their half-mast lids.

"Not for long," Draco muttered through clenched teeth, fumbling with his shirt. He wrenched it off, scattering buttons, pulled off his undershirt, and then scrambled for his trousers, hissing when he accidently brushed his achingly hard cock. He tugged at the belt, fighting with it and growling under his breath. Why would it bloody hell wouldn't it come _undone?_

Why the fuck were his hands shaking so much?

A pair of pale, long-fingered hands reached out to cover his own, stilling his frantic movements. He looked over to find Hermione sitting up in the cot, focusing intently on undoing his belt. Her curls were a wild, dirty tangle around her head, her shoulder blades and collarbone stuck out at sharp angles and the scar from her run-in at the Department of Mysteries was very visible as it ran the length of her ribcage, even in the low light.

_Sweet Morgana, she's beautiful._

She succeeded in getting his belt undone, whipping it off as Draco sat there and choked on the words that seemed to show up out of nowhere. He'd known it for months, it had been pretty much confirmed by how much her leaving him had fucking _hurt_, but now, as she worked on the button of his trousers, naked as the day she was born and covered in dirt, half-healed wounds, dried blood and Merlin knew what else, it bloomed unequivocally inside his chest. Flaring up searingly hot and expanding so fast he couldn't breathe.

She'd always been his, but this… words weren't strong enough.

Not even the three most important ones.

Hermione flicked open the button, drew the zipper down and looked up, grinning at him, and Draco felt his patience run out with an almost audible _snap._ He bared his teeth is a silent snarl and launched himself at her so quickly, she fell back with a squeak of surprise. She laughed as his hands ran over her urgently, the sound dropping off into a ragged moan. She tried to speak again but Draco cut her off, kissing her feverishly, his hands clutching and stroking with enough force to bruise as he steadily brought her up once again.

She was panting under him by the time he deemed her ready. Draco sat up briefly and pushed his trousers and pants down and off, hands trembling once more. He hissed as the cool air hit his erection, and then hissed louder, choking slightly when heated hands replaced the coolness.

_Fuuuuuuck._

It took everything Draco had not to explode and ends things as Hermione stroked slowly, deliberately running her thumb over the swollen head of his cock. His brain began to short-circuit and he clenched his jaw, unable to stop himself from thrusting manically into her hands, whimpers and moans hissing out from between his teeth. Hermione murmured something and leaned forward, kissing him as those long, pale fingers drove him utterly insane. He kissed her back, gasping into her mouth, and then with a growl, jerked himself away from her. Hermione frowned slightly, confusion mixing with the want. He leaned forward again and bit gently on her earlobe.

"When I come, I want it to be inside of you."

Hermione's breath hitched and Draco captured her lips again, pushing her back down onto the cot and leaning over her. He ran his hand down her body, and when he found wet heat, he spread her legs wide. He leaned down to kiss her again and then pulled back slightly, meeting her gaze. She lifted her hand to cup his cheek and smiled at him.

"Come home, Draco."

They groaned simultaneously when, with one eager lunge, he made them one.

He rested his forehead against hers for a second, basking in the feeling of being inside her again. She felt… indescribable. Her walls hugged him, burning along his length, and when she whimpered under him and thrust up, begging for the friction they both desperately needed, he pulled back, took her mouth in another drugging kiss and began to move.

It was slow at first, long, deep lunges that drove them both mad, but soon that wasn't enough and the pace picked up until Draco was driving forcibly into her, hips flexing at a blurring speed. Hermione withered and begged, back arching and head thrashing on the mattress as her fingernails dug into his shoulders, leaving sharp little grooves in his skin that only drove him on. He gritted his teeth and hitched her legs up higher, angling until he was dragging across that spot inside her with every thrust, the reward for his attention a husky shout of his name. A tightening started in his belly and balls, a burning and coiling that had him cursing viciously once more, her name like a mantra in his head.

_Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, Hermione, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine, mine..._

Close. He was so fucking close. But she needed to go first, so he reached down and thrummed his thumb along her clit, making her eyes fly open and her panting breath catch. He met that gorgeous, hazy gaze and leaned down, breathing in her ear as he pressed hard against her.

"Come for me, Granger."

Her answering shriek was music to his ears, her walls clutching and milking him as her back bowed again and her body shook. It was too much for Draco. His movements became sloppy and desperate and after a couple of frantic thrusts, her name echoed through the alcove in a guttural shout as he emptied himself inside of her, lights flashing behind his eyes, the pleasure intense and outrageous. After a moment, he huffed out a satisfied breath and collapsed on top of her, happy, finally relaxed and utterly spent.

~0~

"Well, that certainly wasn't the welcome home I was expecting."

Hermione's fingers trailed up and down his back as she murmured in his ear, her voice breathy and jumping with suppressed amusement. Draco didn't open his eyes or answer. He clutched her to him, his face buried in the crook her neck and his hold tightening almost convulsively as his afterglow faded, something darker and more desperate taking its place. Her skin felt hot against his and his breathing hitched and caught in his throat, his emotions going haywire as he held what was most precious to him. What he'd just remembered he'd almost lost. He gritted his teeth once more, trying his best not to let the weakness get the better of him.

It didn't work.

"Draco?"

He shot back to meet a concerned brown gaze.

"If you ever leave me again, I'll hunt you down and chain you to the fucking bed."

Hermione's eyes widened. She pushed at his shoulders gently and then a little harder when he didn't move. Reluctantly, Draco sat up, his eyes never leaving hers.

"Draco, I-"

"I mean it, Hermione. Never again, understand? You're mine and that's that."

Irritation flashed through her eyes and her lips folded into a very familiar hard line. Draco didn't care. She had to understand. He had to make her _see._

"I think you're forgetting something, Malfoy. _You're_ the one who broke up with _me._"

The Slytherin blinked. "I did not. You ended our relationship the moment you chose Potter over me."

"I _didn't_- Merlin, I can't have this conversation naked. Where are my clothes?"

Draco got off the cot and grabbed her jeans and t-shirt, handing them to her silently. He didn't reach for his own clothes. He was quite comfortable naked and she needed to see what she'd been missing. His witch dressed quickly and then looked back at him, flushing as her gaze ran over his skin.

"Please at least put some pants on."

Draco rolled his eyes and scooped up his pants, pulling them on. She was so prudish at times, a marked contrast to the way she was in bed.

He smirked to himself as he climbed back on the cot. To the way he _made_ her in bed.

"Now, what gave you the idea that I chose Harry over you?"

"You did," Draco said coolly, picking at his nails.

"I didn't! Harry needed help with something and I couldn't _not_ help him!"

Draco's head snapped up. "Pothead is the fucking _Boy-Who-Lived,_ Granger. He's one of the most powerful wizards in the world. I'm sure he could have managed without you tagging along behind him."

_Nearly getting yourself killed,_ he thought, mouth twisting as her torture flashed through his head.

"Harry's my friend, one of the first friends I've ever had! I _had_ to help him! Why can't you see that?"

"Why can't you see how much it destroyed me to see you turn around and walk away?"

He stared down at the bed as that sentence popped out against his will. Fuck, where was his resolve not to let her know how much she had hurt him? He was a Malfoy, for Merlin's sake! Malfoy's didn't deal in bloody useless emotions!

He jerked when his face was suddenly framed by a pair of rough hands.

"Draco, please listen to me. I didn't walk away from you. I _didn't_," she insisted when he opened his mouth to protest. "This war… I've been involved in it since I was twelve. Right from the very start, Malfoy, and though it's something that, if I had a choice, I would have been as far away from as possible, I didn't get that choice."

"Yes, you did," Draco muttered, staring into her eyes. Hermione sighed.

"No. No, I didn't. Harry is my best friend and I would do anything for him. I love you, Draco, so much that it's frightening at times, but Harry gave me that one thing that I've always wanted but never had."

"A friend," the Slytherin murmured, something slowly circling and trying to click in his mind.

"Yeah. I'm not sure if you know what it's like, as you were raised completely different from me, but I was a horribly lonely kid. My parents loved me, sure, but that wasn't enough. Coming to Hogwarts and meeting Harry, and by extension, Ron-"

"Bloody simpleton."

Hermione chuckled. "He's not, actually. But we won't go into that. It was something I'd never experienced before, at least not at that level. Him and Ron and Ginny and the rest, they're all my family. Add in wanting to finish something that I've been involved in since the beginning, and I really couldn't not go with him. See? No choice."

_Family._ Draco scowled as his mind whirled. When she put it that way… hadn't he tried everything to get his mother away from the man who had helped conceive him? Loyalty was a big thing to him, he was loyal to his mother and the woman in front of him, couldn't imagine not doing everything in his power to make sure they were okay…

He _had_ done everything in his power to help his mother, until Hermione had had to come first.

_Bloody fucking Merlin_.

"He's _just_ a friend?" he muttered, still not looking up.

"Yes, you silly prat. That's all he ever was and even before you, all he ever would've been. Getting together with you only emphasized that. You're not the only one who's staked a claim, you know. You belong to me as much as I belong to you."

Once again, Draco's head snapped up and the words bubbled in his throat. It was just so hard. His family had never been demonstrative and he'd never actually heard them before Hermione had said them to him that first time. He swallowed hard as he stared at her and something in his eyes must have let her know his struggle, because her gaze softened. She reached over to lay her hand against his cheek, leaning in to kiss him softly.

"I love you too, Draco. More than you can ever imagine. Now, can I have to pleasure of calling you my boyfriend again?"

_I was never anything but yours._

The Slytherin swallowed again and nodded, his heart bursting as his witch laughed and threw her arms around him. He held her tightly, burying his face into her hair and breathing deeply, feeling for the first time since she'd left him – _no, since I stupidly assumed something that wasn't at all right – _that his lungs were finally free of constrictions.

He was complete again.

Hermione pulled back and smiled at him, taking his hand and holding it tight. "We better go. The battle will be starting soon, if it hasn't already. Are you going to fight?"

If anyone else had asked that question, the continuation of it, _for which side, _would have hung in the air and turned everything to shit. Hermione didn't even begin to indicate that. She'd always left that choice up to him, never pressuring him to take her side, though she should have known that he was _always_ on her side, no matter what. Well, when he wasn't riddled with jealousy, he was. It was only recently that he'd started seeing other reasons to support the Light side. He nodded again and they got off the cot, Draco getting dressed and Hermione pulling on her underwear. He smirked when she made him turn around.

"I know what you're like, Malfoy, and the minute you see me take off my t-shirt, you'll be on me. While I certainly wouldn't complain, we do need to go."

They finished dressing quickly. Draco unlocked the curtains, taking down the silencing charm and both of them stepped out of find an empty room.

Empty all but for a blond girl who was sitting on a desk close to the curtains, her legs swinging as she smiled at them. Draco knew her well enough to pick out the knowing smirk hiding behind her airy expression.

"Luna. Have you been there the entire time?" Hermione asked, tone mortified.

"Yes," the Ravenclaw answered simply. "Don't worry, your silencing charm worked effectively."

Draco smirked and shook his head as his witch blushed a deep red and Luna went on to explain to them what had happened while they were 'busy,' as well as what was happening now. He knew he liked the girl for a reason.

~0~

The battle was insane. Draco stuck to Hermione like glue, not letting her out of his sight for an instant. He'd seen what could happen to her with only Golden Boy and Weasel for protection. He wasn't ever going to let that happen again.

They searched for a tiara of all things, in the Room of Hidden Things, just barely escaping with their lives. Draco watched with little remorse as Crabbe conjured Fiendfyre and then perished within it. His friendship – no, it wasn't even that, his _acquaintanceship_ – went right out the window the first time the fucker tried to kill Hermione. Once they got out of the Room, Draco frowned as the tiara emitted a thin scream and then fell apart in Potter's hand.

Two Weasleys suddenly appeared out of the smoke and the battle continued, one of them duelling the Minister of Magic. Suddenly, an explosion rocked the castle and Draco found his arms full of his witch again, as she and the others in the group realized one of the redheads was dead. One of the twins by the looks of it. Draco held her tightly, regret running through him. He hadn't known him well, he'd been a Gryffindor after all, but even he had appreciated the genius behind his and his twin's pranks.

The death of Snape threw him completely off his game. The man had been a friend of sorts, had protected him when he could, and he found himself mourning harder then he thought he would as he crouched down beside the Headmaster at Potter's side. Hermione had to drag him away in the end. Then she was the one holding him as he grieved.

They regrouped in the Great Hall and the Dark Lord's voice made the castle shake again as he gave Potter an hour to surrender, or he'd kill everyone held dear to him. Draco ignored this as he began to help with the many wounded patients, using his newly-learned healing skills to heal as many as he could. Or at least stop them from bleeding to death. He was labouring over a severely wounded boy, the injuries drawing him through the Veil despite Draco attempts, when another wand joined his. He looked up to see Hannah Abbott combining her spell with his. He looked down again without saying anything and together, they brought the boy back from the brink. Hannah stood up when they'd finished and looked at him.

"I don't think I ever thanked you for saving my life," she said quietly, and when he went to say that he didn't need a thank you, she shook her head.

"No. I know that you're trying to make everyone believe that you're only on our side because you're in love with Hermione and you're doing it for her, but I know it's more than that."

"You know?" Draco queried, head cocked curiously. Hannah nodded.

"If it was only for her, you wouldn't have stopped that Carrow bitch from torturing me, as well as saving many others and helping heal us later on. You're a good man, Draco Malfoy, just a victim of circumstance and upbringing. Thank you for making your choice."

Draco swallowed, more than a little shocked. "Y-you're welcome."

Hannah smiled at him then moved to the next patient, while Draco sat back, staring blindly at the sleeping boy.

"She's right, you know. You're a Gryffindor at heart."

He looked up and gaped at the She-Weasel.

"Are you _trying_ to insult me?"

Ginny's lips twitched. "Maybe. I meant that you're braver then you think you are. Love tends to do that to people."

"Have you spoken to him?" he asked as the redhead's gaze searched the room, eyes distant and sad. He felt surprisingly sorry for the chit. Ginny looked back at him and shrugged.

"Not really. I will, though," she said as her eyes hardened in determination. "He's not getting away from me again."

_I know the feeling,_ Draco thought, his own gaze seeking out his witch. As if feeling his gaze, she looked up from her patient and smiled at him warmly.

It was then that the Dark Lord spoke again.

Draco didn't believe it for a second when they all piled out the doors to see Potter dead. He clutched Hermione's hand as she began to shake, his own shock and disbelief nearly overwhelming him. The Golden Boy couldn't be dead. For the love of Salazar, he was the Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, _Harry fucking Potter!_ He couldn't die! It was a trick, it had to be.

When it did indeed, turn out to be a trick, the battle began again.

It ended in the Great Hall, Draco only leaving Hermione's side once, to make sure his mother got out of the castle alive. He ended up having to duel his father to do so. When he brought the miserable bastard down with a well-placed _Sectumsempra_, he expected to feel joyous.

It shocked him that he didn't.

He held his victim as Lucius died in his arms, feeling nothing at all. He was now Head of the House of Malfoy and after his mother had apparated away and his father took his final breath, he walked away without a backward glance.

He'd seek his mother out and make sure she was okay later, when everything had died down. Right now, he had a woman to protect.

He ran back into the Hall just in time to hear the Weasley mother shout, "NOT MY DAUGHTER, YOU BITCH!" Fury ripped through him and he joined the duel without thinking, wanting nothing more than to take apart the woman who had caused his Hermione so much pain. Neither was sure who cast the Killing Curse in the end, but Bellatrix Lestrange ended up dead anyway and that was all that mattered.

He ran for Hermione after that. He pulled her back against him, his back hitting the stone wall and his wand held out in front of them, the Gryffindor's soon joining his. They stood and watched along with everyone else as Potter and the Dark Lord circled and taunted each other. Draco felt vindication run through him as he learnt that Snape really had been the spy he'd thought he was all along.

His jaw dropped when Harry announced to the room that Draco had been the true master of the Elder Wand, everyone shifting to glance at him as Hermione let out a shocked little giggle and brought his hand up to kiss the back of it. He was floored. He knew of the Elder Wand, of course, who didn't, but to know that it actually exists and that_ he'd_ been its master for a time, was rather shocking.

_Wait a minute, Potter disarmed me, that means…_

"_Avada Kedavra!_"

"_Expelliarmus!"_

The two spells collided and it was over in a heartbeat. The Dark Lord fell back dead, the Killing Curse rebounding back on him as The Elder Wand refused to kill its master. There was dead silence for a moment or two and then the Hall exploded with roaring cheers.

Hermione turned in his hold and grasped the back of his head, jerking it down to capture his mouth in a wild, almost hysterical kiss. Draco kissed her back, feeling a little numb under the disbelief and desire.

_It's over. It's really over._

She pulled back and wrapped her arms around him, sobbing into his chest. Draco laid his cheek on the top of her head and watched the cheering, hugging, shouting, crying and some pretty public snogging. People were touching each other constantly, happiness shining from almost every gaze, and families were coming together, weeping with sorrow over the dead and joy over the ones they found alive. Luna was kissing a tall, shapely girl, the two of them lost in each other as they snogged frantically.

It was a kaleidoscope of emotion, and as Draco stared, he found the words bubbling up again.

This time, they weren't hard to say at all.

"I love you, Hermione."

The witch in his arms froze for a long moment at his whispered declaration; so long, Draco began to worry. Finally, she stepped back, her beautiful brown eyes wide and startled and so incredibly jubilant. She licked her lips and swiped at her wet cheeks with the heels of her hands.

"As I love you, D-Draco. So, so much."

Draco grinned and leaned down, kissing her with everything in his heart. They stayed locked in each other's arm for a long time, obviously to everything else them as the Hall continued to celebrate loudly around them.

They'd join the celebrations later. They wouldn't have a choice.

Right now, though, they were more than content with just each other.


End file.
